My alarm betrayed me.
"Seriously?" I mumbled at the phone buzzing uselessly on my nightstand. Three alarms… maybe six… and I had managed to sleep through all of them. A new personal record, honestly.
The morning was already shaping up to be a disaster.
I shot up from bed, hair sticking out like a startled raccoon, nearly tripping over the sweater I tossed on the floor last night. My phone buzzed with a reminder I didn't need:
7:30. Class starts. Don't be late. Again.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, shoving my foot into the wrong shoe and hopping in chaos. "I get it. I'm a failure. Move on."
I threw myself into the bathroom, splashed cold water onto my face, and stared at my reflection.
Dark brown hair everywhere. Hazel eyes doing their best impression of a sleep-deprived owl.
Five hours of sleep was clearly not enough.
Great. Another glamorous day as a teacher.
I reached for my necklace, the tiny silver charm shaped like a sword, and fastened it around my neck. The metal was oddly warm this morning, like it had been resting in sunlight.
"Weird," I whispered. "You're supposed to be my good-luck charm. Start acting like it."
Grandma always called it a symbol of protection or whatever.
Corny, sure, but I wore it every day anyway.
I grabbed my bag, locked the apartment, and sprinted down the stairs like someone was chasing me.
Luckily, no one was. My knees made enough noise to scare anyone away.
The rain from last night had left puddles everywhere. My sneakers slapped against the wet pavement as I rushed toward the staff entrance.
"Late again, Hart?"
I didn't even have to turn to know who it was. Mrs. Keane, the teacher who looked like she was born annoyed.
I forced a smile.
"Only by a few minutes."
"It's 7:42."
"Exactly. A few."
She sighed so hard I was surprised she didn't deflate entirely, then walked inside.
I breathed out, relieved she didn't lecture me. Small wins count.
Inside the hallway, I ran into Mrs. Hale, the only human being in this school who actually liked me.
"You look like you fought the rain and lost," she said warmly, handing me a tissue for no reason.
"I lost the moment I woke up."
She laughed. "Hang in there, kid. It's Monday."
"That explains everything," I groaned.
As we walked toward our classes, a student ran past us.
"Miss Hart! You forgot your… uh… stuff!"
"What stuff?"
He blinked. "I dunno. You look like someone who forgot something."
"…I'm going home."
"No you're not," Mrs. Hale said, pushing me playfully toward my classroom. "Let's survive today first."
I slipped into my first class right before the bell, trying to look like someone who definitely didn't wake up ten minutes ago.
Halfway through my first lesson, the fluorescent lights above us flickered twice.
The students barely reacted, too busy perfecting the art of pretending to pay attention.
I paused mid-sentence.
"…that's new."
One of the kids raised his hand. "Miss, can the lights not do that? It's creepy."
"I agree," I said. "Let's all collectively pretend it didn't happen."
Still, the back of my neck tingled. The kind of static that rolls in right before a storm or before something goes wrong.
I rubbed my necklace unconsciously and kept teaching.
During break, a scruffy brown dog wandered along the school fence, its eyes sad and droopy in a way that made me smile.
I waved.
The dog stared at me.
Fine.
Then it growled.
At me.
Slow, low, hackles rising, like I was a threat.
"What the hell?" I whispered.
The dog barked sharply, backed away, and ran off like something scared it.
I stood there, confused and borderline offended. "Really? I'm dangerously ugly now? Great."
Maybe I smelled like stress. Dogs can probably detect that.
In the teachers' lounge, I poked at my rice like it had insulted me.
"You okay?" Mrs. Hale asked. "You look spaced out."
"I think animals hate me today."
"What?"
"Long story. Dog drama."
She snorted. "You need sleep."
"More than sleep. I need a new life."
She laughed again, and for a moment the day felt manageable, light even.
But then a small wave of dizziness washed over me.
Nothing dramatic, just enough to make the room tilt.
I blinked hard.
"You dehydrated?" Mrs. Hale asked, already handing me her water bottle.
"I'm fine. Probably low blood sugar."
But my necklace…
It felt heavier.
Like someone had replaced it with a stone.
I shook it off and kept eating.
The rest of the day blurred by in a mess of rushing, apologizing, and desperately pretending I wasn't seconds from collapsing. By the time my last class ended, I was ready to dissolve into the floor.
But no.
Not today.
Because today, of all days, I had a parent-teacher meeting. One of my assigned students, smart, sweet, chaotic, had parents with lots of questions. And I was apparently the person who had to answer them.
They were supposed to arrive at 4.
At 4:20, still nothing.
I sat at my desk, tapping a pen against my notebook as the minutes dragged past. I could have been home already. I could have been in bed. But no, I was here. Waiting.
Eventually, with a sigh, I rolled my shoulders and looked at the small pile of assignments beside me.
"Well… might as well do something."
The plan was to kill a few minutes. Just mark a couple papers. But once I started, the world blurred away like it always did when I focused too deeply.
When I finally glanced at the window, something cold punched the air out of my chest.
It was dark.
Not dim. Not evening.
Night.
"What the—" I bolted upright. "How long was I sitting here?"
My phone answered: 7:32 PM.
Three hours. Gone.
"Okay, Mira, calm down," I whispered. "Just breathe. You're fine. This is fine."
But my body didn't buy it.
The campus practically shuts down at this hour. Lights in entire buildings go dark. The hallways turn cold. The silence gets heavier, like the building itself is holding something in.
I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to wake myself up, but the exhaustion clung like fog.
Maybe washing my face would help.
I grabbed my bag and stepped into the hallway. Each footstep echoed too loudly. The air felt colder. That prickling sensation crawled over my neck, the kind that whispers you're not alone, even though you are.
"Get it together," I whispered.
The restroom lights flickered as I stepped inside. I locked the door, set my bag down, and splashed cold water on my face. The shock helped a little.
When I reached for a paper towel, something glinted near the drain.
My necklace.
Everything in me froze.
I touched my neck. Bare.
"What…?"
It must have slipped off earlier today. How come I didn't notice? I looked around as the restroom and the teacher's lounge were the only place I've been to asides my class
There it was, besides the trash can.
I grabbed it quickly as I washed it, heaving a sigh of relief, the metal cold against my fingers.
"Almost gave me a heart attack," I muttered, fastening it again.
I grabbed my bag, stepped back into the hall,
and stopped.
The lights seemed dimmer.
The air heavier.
The silence sharper.
Okay. Time to leave.
I walked faster, not running, but close.
That was when I heard it.
Footsteps.
Slow. Uneven. Dragging.
Every tiny hair on my arms lifted.
I froze, heart thudding painfully.
"Hello?" My voice echoed down the corridor, far too loud and too exposed.
Fantastic. Exactly like the horror movies where the girl investigates and everyone screams at her to stop.
I swallowed.
"Mr. Gabriel?"
Please let it be the old security guard.
Silence.
Then movement.
I turned.
And he was just there.
A figure at the far end of the hallway, half-swallowed in shadow near the stairwell. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Soaked. Water dripped steadily from him, mixing with a thin, dark line of blood trailing down his arm.